Verdict
The rest of the day, I helped Tegan.
Not only did the bandages need to be changed, cuts and burns had to be tended. There were broken bones too and once we’d dealt with the long process of treating them, they also needed food and broth. I’d never seen myself as a caregiver, but since Tegan needed my hands, I was willing. I didn’t know as much as she did but I followed directions well enough.
“No, hold that with your left hand,” she said briskly. “Don’t move.”
She was so good with the injured, offering endless patience and kindness. I had less of her natural aptitude, but since I was only her assistant, not the doctor, my skill didn’t matter as much.
By nightfall, I was as exhausted as I had been after the battle outside the Salvation gates.
“How many of them do you think will live?” I asked Tegan.
The room was starting to reek of putrid wounds, masked lightly by antiseptic and healing salve. In some cases, her proficiency and desire to help wouldn’t be enough. I felt sorry for those poor souls because a slow death was the worst kind.
She puffed out a weary sigh. “Half, I hope.”
That was even fewer than I expected. “It must be hard.”
“I wish Papa Doc was here,” she whispered. “He could probably save more.”
“You’re doing your best.”
“It’s not enough,” she said, stalking off.
I didn’t take it personally. Tegan wanted to save everyone but life didn’t work that way, no matter how much I wished otherwise.
As I came out of the granary, I ran into Stalker; he had fallen in with the scouts and went out regularly with them. He didn’t look as if he’d rested much, his bones sharp beneath his skin and dark circles cradling his eyes. He jerked a nod, then moved to push past me. I stayed him with an abortive movement, not quite touching him. I suspected by his taut expression that there would be no more quiet moments between us, and that was for the best. False encouragement would be wrong when my heart belonged so completely to Fade.
“What?” he demanded.
“I just wondered what you saw out there and what the trip from Salvation was like.”
“Awful. I had no idea if you were safe, if I’d ever see you again. And this time, I didn’t even get a kiss good-bye.”
“That’s not what I meant.” He had to know I was looking for concrete information about the terrain and the number of Freaks.
“Forget it,” he said. “The colonel is waiting on my report.”
It wasn’t hard to read his mood. “That’s not the only reason you’re hurrying off.”
Stalker eyed me, his mouth flat. “I get it. You’d rather have him, broken, than me whole. If that didn’t clarify my chances with you, nothing would. But you can’t have what you want either, Deuce. I can’t be your friend, feeling like this. Give me some time, and then…” He shrugged. “Maybe. No promises. Just … leave me be.”
“Take care of yourself,” I said softly.
He strode off without looking back, shoulders straight. At least his leg’s healed. Part of me was glad it was over—that he’d finally given up. The rest felt bad that I’d hurt him and given him the wrong signals out of ignorance. Sighing, I went to the mess hall, where they were wrapping up dinner; I was among the last to be served, then I spotted Momma Oaks and the rest of my family across the sparsely populated room. I wove through the tables and sat down with them. They all looked a little better than they had the night before.
“Have you heard anything?” I asked, regarding their official status.
Edmund shook his head. “There’s a council meeting this evening to decide our fates.”
“They wouldn’t just turn us away,” Rex said, but he didn’t sound as sure as he wished.
I didn’t reply since the enclave made a practice of exactly that. In all the years I lived there, they’d made one exception—for Fade—and only because his will to survive fascinated them, the way he’d lived feral and alone, bereft of protection or support. That implacable core made me admire him more, even as I promised myself I’d always be there to fight for him. It was time someone did.
“It sure is strange here,” Momma Oaks whispered then. “They don’t pray before meals, did you notice? And the women go around dressed like men.” She aimed a look at me, as if she’d just realized something. “Is that how you felt when you first arrived in Salvation?”
I smiled at that. “Yes. But if I adapted, you can, too. I don’t think people here mind that you have your own customs.” But that brought a question to mind. “How come you don’t know more about the other settlements? I can tell none of you have ever been here before.”
My mother looked shocked at the idea. “Of course not. Longshot handled all contact with outsiders. It’s been our policy for hundreds of years to limit our exposure to worldly ways.”
“It was supposed to keep us safe,” Rex whispered.
Edmund’s shoulders slumped a little. “Yes, we believed that by conforming to the covenant the original settlers made with heaven and by living plain, simple lives, God would spare us from the trials that plagued others.”
“So … Longshot kept Salvation from being … sullied?” I wasn’t sure that was the right word, but my parents nodded, so I must be in the vicinity.
“He acted as a buffer, handled all of our trade runs and when trappers and traders came to town, he did business with them outside the walls,” Rex added.
That much, I remembered; I just hadn’t known why. “But if you were so worried about bad things getting in, why did you let the four of us stay?” Before, I just thought they were kind folks in Salvation. I hadn’t realized they were so insular. Now I was genuinely curious.
Momma Oaks answered with a quote from the book Caroline Bigwater used to haul around. “‘Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.’”
“You took us in because we’re young,” I guessed. “You thought we’d learn your ways.”
Edmund smiled at me. “That’s not why we welcomed you, Deuce, only the official town policy on strangers.” Then his face fell. “Or it was.”
“Don’t think about it,” my mother whispered.
Drawing in a breath, Edmund rubbed Momma Oaks on the shoulder. “We can build a life here, if we’re welcome. Surely even soldiers need good shoes.”
I glanced down at the worn, poorly made boots that most of the men were wearing. “I’d say they’re crying out for you here.”
“I’d like to apprentice and learn the family trade,” Rex said hesitantly. “I understand if you won’t take me back, though. I’m pretty old to start from the beginning and I’ve likely forgotten what little you managed to cram into my head, before—”
Edmund smiled. “Of course, I’m happy to have you. That only applies if I can find a workshop here, of course.”
Momma Oaks was scrutinizing the green shirts and trousers that everyone wore. “Their clothes are in rags. I wonder if they know how to weave or sew, here. I could set up a shop, too.”
It was good to see them making tentative plans, imagining how they could build. Their hope renewed my own, fortified my determination to find the place I belonged. So far, I liked Soldier’s Pond better than I’d enjoyed Salvation—not that I had wanted the town destroyed. They took us in and kept us safe to the best of their abilities, and I’d always be grateful.
Shortly after I finished my food, the rest of the men filed out. Rex rose to follow them, and Momma Oaks and Edmund did likewise. I came last, watching as the soldiers jogged toward a large building on the opposite end of town. I figured that was where the meeting would be held, more organized than the impromptu sessions Elder Bigwater called on the green. Curious and apprehensive, I slipped into the hall along with the last trickle of soldiers.
Inside, there were rows of benches, similar to the mess hall, but none of them were stained, and there were no tables. The wood gleamed, attesting to the fact that they discussed serious matters here. I slid onto a bench beside soldiers I didn’t recognize. Spread throughout the crowd, I spotted a few familiar faces: Spence, Tully, and Morrow, though not Thornton—and I imagined he was mourning his fallen son.
The colonel stood up front, talking to the same group who had agreed to let her send men to Salvation. Along with everyone else, I waited to see what the verdict was. I couldn’t make out the conversation from this distance, though I could tell they were still talking. The fact that they were meant I had reason to hope for a positive outcome.
Once the room filled up, two men swung the doors closed, then locked it. They took punctuality serious in Soldier’s Pond. Then the colonel called the meeting to order by whacking the table with a small wooden hammer. The crowd quieted at once, turned expectantly toward the front as the council took their seats. Once everyone was settled, the colonel leaned forward.
“A motion has been brought to permit these folks to stay as permanent residents.” In Salvation, people would already be shouting objections or support, but the room remained calm and orderly. Colonel Park went on, “I now formerly call this meeting to order to present our decision. Mr. Walls, will you do the honors?”
The gray-haired man I remembered from their first emergency meeting stood. “Yes, Colonel.” He addressed the audience then. “After a lengthy debate, we’ve decided to offer provisional citizenship status to any families willing to comply with the terms, which are as follows: one member of the household, male or female, must volunteer for service and pass basic training, then take his or her place on the active duty list. The rest are then free to assume support roles in town.”
Though I wasn’t sure, that sounded like joining the guard in Salvation. From what I’d seen of the training program here, it would be more rigorous; they took defense and discipline seriously. A support role must be someone who helped the soldiers do their jobs, likely by making shoes, boots, and uniforms. So that meant if Rex or I volunteered, then the Oakses could stay here and be safe. Well. Relatively speaking. Someone as smart as the colonel must understand the severity of the threat. Her scouts were good or Stalker wouldn’t be roving with them. He had little patience for incompetence.
“Are there any questions?” the colonel asked. Silence. “Objections?”
I expected a spate of complaints but the men and women in the hall merely nodded agreement with the decision. On some level, it made sense to permit new blood, but a favorable decision would never have been reached in the enclave. Resources weren’t quite as strained Topside, however, so Soldier’s Pond could afford to be more generous in their terms—and they still benefited from the influx of new faces. This ruling increased the size of their defense force.
Tully and Spence whispered together, though I wasn’t sure how they felt about the verdict. Morrow was watching me, and when I caught his eye, he touched two fingers to his brow in greeting. The gesture made me lonely for Longshot. Once the meeting broke up officially, I strode to the front of the room, my decision made.
“I’ll join up for the Oaks family.”
The colonel frowned at me. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
She sighed and shook her head. “While I admire your enthusiasm, you’re not old enough, Deuce. We require minors to be eighteen before they can volunteer.”
Horror washed through me. “I’ve been training since I could hold a knife, ma’am, and where I’m from, you’re considered an adult at fifteen. Can’t you make an exception this once?”
“I’m sorry. I respect your courage, but an adult from your family must fulfill the requirement. Come see me in two years.”
That would be too late. Momma Oaks might be strong and resilient, but if Rex died in service to the town, she would have no children left at all. I didn’t think she could bear it—and even if she could—she shouldn’t have to. Edmund probably couldn’t pass basic training; I’d noticed the slow way he moved in the mornings, as if his joints pained him, and his back wasn’t the best from long years hunched over his workbench.
“What about the wounded?” I asked. “Some of them have no surviving family.”
“If they can’t recover enough to serve, then they have to go,” the colonel said. “We can’t afford to support those who give nothing back.”
So they weren’t wholly unlike the enclave, here. They just had the resources to permit a fa?ade of kindness, but ultimately, the result wasn’t too much different. “How long will you give them to heal before sending them away?”
The colonel seemed surprised by my question. “We discussed this issue, and a month seems fair. So we’ll assess everyone in thirty days.”
I had to admit, that was reasonable. If a patient wasn’t on his feet and in fighting form after all that time, it was unlikely he or she ever would be. Sending the injured out into the wilderness was the same as a death sentence, but that wasn’t the colonel’s problem. She had to look out for the welfare of her citizens foremost. I understood that well enough.
“What about able-bodied souls? If they don’t have anyone who can fight, how long before you ask them to move along?”
“There’s never been a time limit set on trading parties or visitors,” the colonel said. “But they wouldn’t have citizenship rights.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means they need a way to earn their food and shelter, and we give priority to businesses run by those who have someone in service.”
So the Oakses could stay, but there was no guarantee anyone would buy from Edmund’s shop. With a faint sigh, I turned and walked toward the exit. The others had mostly filed out of the hall; they milled around discussing the decision in low tones. For the most part, their reaction sounded approving. I stopped short when I realized my family was waiting just outside the doors.
“You already volunteered for us,” Momma Oaks said with a touch of anger.
The failure stung. “I tried. They won’t take me. Said I’m not old enough.”
It never even occurred to me that there would be some arbitrary age that qualified me as old enough to fight since I’d been doing it for years. The schooling requirement in Salvation might’ve given me some clue, but there, the magic number was sixteen, and I’d reached it. I wished I’d known about the rule before; to help my family, I would’ve lied. Frustration surged through me.
Too late now.
“You aren’t,” Edmund agreed.
Before I could protest, Rex said, “I’ll do it.”
I wondered if his parents noticed the despair in his eyes. He wasn’t stepping forward so they’d have a place to stay. Ruth’s loss ate at him, making him just not care about the consequences. This couldn’t happen.
Momma Oaks shook her head. “Absolutely not. I’ve already lost one son.”
“So we rest up a bit and gather supplies.” Edmund produced a cheerful, determined look. “Then we move on. There must be a settlement that doesn’t require military service. It’s just a matter of finding one that suits us.”
Given the distance between towns and the danger of the territory, I wasn’t sure it would be that simple. But the way Momma Oaks brightened, I could see that Edmund’s words had the desired effect. And I couldn’t bring myself to kick dirt on the fire of their hope.
So I offered, “I can check the maps. Longshot has notes about all the towns and settlements on the trade routes.”
Edmund sighed. “I wish I’d paid more attention to his stories, but the rest of us weren’t permitted to travel, even if we wanted to. So it seemed better not to indulge in curiosity.”
But I had noticed that he had a secret yen to know more about the world he hadn’t been allowed to explore because he’d asked me all kinds of questions when I went out on patrol. I wondered if Edmund had ever felt stifled by his life in Salvation. Not enough to want it to end this way, I imagined.
“Don’t worry,” Rex said. “We’ll find somewhere to settle. This is a good enough place, but maybe it’s not where we belong.”
I agreed. “If they can’t see that I’m capable of fighting, they don’t deserve my blades.”
“They don’t know you,” Momma Oaks said. “Like us, they only understand what life has shown them. And I’m willing to bet there’s nobody here like you.”
Given the smile she was wearing, that felt like a compliment.